


Golden Grapes

by SincerelySin



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Death, F/M, Foreplay in Church, Undead, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SincerelySin/pseuds/SincerelySin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you practically spit fire at everyone in your way and end up losing more than you ever expected, life can feel a bit wonky. Living in Good Easter might have been a blessing in disguise but what came after certainly needed a crucifixion. Rated M for sexual themes, violence, and language. Slight AU. Post Phase 3 leading up to Phase 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gimme Danger

* * *

 

 

The bland and harsh landscape of Death Valley always seemed to amuse Murdoc. Just about everything here was dead and decaying. It would only be lovelier with some demon babes or some sort of black, bubbling cesspool he could toss annoying idiots who bothered him or got in his way. The only thing he didn't really care for was the bloody sun and his current company. That tosspot in the passenger seat, Stuart. Blue haired stupid, idiotic, dullard didn't have a fucking brain cell in that skull of his. Might be useful later if he can find a way to turn people into demonic minions and transplant brains or _something_.

 

Yet here they were riding together again, minus the cyborg Noodle, in the direction of the place they had been chased once before by some manic in an El Camino. Some bald fucker named Bruce Willis really had it out for them on their way to Plastic Beach, shooting his gun and hanging about the window laughing. He cringed, frowning at the very thought of that guy, still gave him the willies every once in a while when he drove. Being out here trying to get inspiration for a new album felt a bit odd. Noodle did say doing something like this might help a bit, but she also was on another luxury cruise while we get to putz around on a shit road again. More than likely she was pulling one over on us, that catty grin of hers always seems to give it away.

 

At least this time they weren't being followed by the cops or any bald freaks, he could actually enjoy driving about without having any sort of trouble pop up. Regardless, the heat was absolutely fucking ridiculous. It felt damn near Hellish here in the Nevada heat considering in was also the middle of Summer at the lowest point in North America. If only the damned windows worked for this battered shit cart and worthless excuse of a vehicle. Not like they could because they shattered when they were shot, same with the bloody back window. He should probably look into getting those fixed and paying the tickets, which was a laughing matter because there's no way he was gonna give money to some chide fuck over how his car looked. He'd probably just go steal another one, his bandmates could fuck off if they asked where he got it from.

 

Speaking of giving money to certain fucking imbeciles, he glanced over at his current passenger and gave a sneer in the black eyed, blunette's direction. How could such a pansy play on a keyboard so well and have a voice like he did? Usually sounded like he had the hiccups or pissed his trousers half the time. Murdoc gave a bit of an evil grin, thinking that he really needed to look into making a cyborg 2D or brain implants for his band mate. Maybe he could look into filling some pills with drugs of all kinds, get that dullard in some sort of trance and make him even more of a zombie. _Yeah, that would do nicely_ , he thinks giving his chin a rub.

 

Feeling a bit of an odd itch, 2D scratched his neck feeling a bit awkward at the way Murdoc kept glancing over and making a variety of facial expressions. He really didn't like the sneers or grins he was seeing on the Satanist's face. It was always like this when they traveled together when they weren't make a music video. Between the beatings and having the bassist yell in his face, he never seemed to get a break. Mudz being the driver didn't really help the situation either, he seemed like he was more focused on his evil thoughts than the road, or lack thereof. There wasn't much else other than rocks and a faint dirt trail that the car barely fit on.

 

He couldn't even begin to describe the feeling of pain his head was becoming wrecked with at the moment, no thanks to that faceache blabbering about every time he swerved off the road. Who did he bloody think he was? 2D was the idiot supposed to be getting head pains, not him! Giving that ruddy bloke a couple more slaps before yanking the steering wheel back and getting the car onto the road. He grumbled and chewed his lip almost nervously. Apparently slaps don't really work anymore, he must be used to the light punishments by now. Wouldn't surprise him if this moron was now into BDSM or torture now, _he probably fucking liked it_.

 

His _dear old pal_ was really starting to piss him off with all that rubbish he's mumbling about. The idiot couldn't even think to himself properly, no, he just had to be vocal about everything. Forcing him to him the rubbish that comes out his mouth past his crooked teeth. If he wanted to sit and make noises, he should be coming up with new lyrics and music instead of crying about all day. There wasn't any kind of material for a new album which meant, no new profits which meant, no more _money_ and this idiot certainly wasn't helping his creative juices flow. If there was anything 2D could do, it was seriously piss him off. “Oi, you bloody twit, I said shut it before I shove a fist through ya face!” he screamed while gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Turning to give his blue haired passenger a hard stare and a menacing flash of discolored teeth.

 

2D's eyes gave a flash of white and he whispered a bit to himself before pulling his knees up and wrapping his lanky arms around them. Always with the yelling, about him having bad nerves and headaches, or even his mannerisms. He knew he was a dunderhead but didn't really get why Mudz always had to be so pissy about it. Feeling himself jerk about as his bandmate once again went into a ditch while trying to stare at something in the rear view mirror, he wished to be back safe in his own bed having some smokes. Maybe even a drink or a pretty girl in his bed, that might just help him get his mind of things.

 

“Yeah, I 'fink that sounds just about right about now, right, a nice warm bed. Need me pills too, head's startin' ter hurt some more...” but his mumbles were cut short by a wailing scream from Murdoc and the car starting to spin out of control. Dirt and dust flew about, flying in through the windows as the browns on the world spun wile Murdoc struggled to get the car back on the road. Streaks of black and silver flashed by through the veil of light shining through the grit. Loud engines gave roars like metal beasts coming to life and blazing over the ground. The tails lights flashed red through the kicked up storm of dirt and disappeared in the distance. There were gone as quickly as they appeared.

 

2D held on tight to the door of the car and braced his legs against the center console. Hoping this wasn't the last day he was gonna be breathing and he stared at the driver, watching as he pulled the wheel back and got straightened out. Managing to get back on the road, Mudz gave strings of curses and beat the wheel with so much ferocity, he thought it might break. Whatever just passed scared the absolute piss out of both of them and obviously pissing one of them off. Murdoc gave another grunt and stepped his foot on the gas petal. “Damn bikers come out from nowhere trying to run me off the road, I'll show those bloody fools who's who 'round here!”

 

Deciding to have a bit of fun and get this idiot's britches wet, he pushed the petal to the metal and gave a demonic laugh. The Camaro roared to life, back wheels spinning out before rocketing the car forward. The feel of gravity pushing them back against the seats and the blur of everything flashing by gave him a rush and admittedly, a bit of a chub. Nothing like feeling the world disappear and become your plaything. His fun time would end a bit shortly no thanks to the fun killer currently in the other front seat. Figures, after the Paula incident, he always wanted to interrupt everyone else's fun.

 

“Uh, M-Mudz, 'oo's them behind us now? They're ridin' 'orfully quick towards us .” He gulped hard and squinted before beginning again softly, “Right, not likin' the bloody look o' this, should 'ave stayed 'ome like I wanted.” Giving out a bit of a whine, he curled his legs into his chest and held onto his head, peeking out to stare into the rear view mirror.

 

Looking back through the blown out back window of his Camaro with a sneer, he could just barely make out the small black figures in the distance but it didn't matter because they were coming up on them, and fast. Hopefully this isn't another madman with a gun or more of those crazed fans who keep asking to get impregnated, not like most of those estranged whores could ride a bike that well. The sex he would be up for, crazy doesn't mean much so long as he can ditch her somewhere, but he ain't having no bastard kids anymore. Either way, he's not about to be chased back into the bloody ocean and have the piss scared out of him again. No more bald shitheads are going to get the best of him, no sir.

 

Murdoc turned to 2D with another hard stare, warning him, “Right, look, you're gonna need to shut up and let me handle this. That means no fuckin' singing, shrieking, or getting your knickers in a twist. This road's about to be eatin' shit and so's those bikers. I need concentration and you sure ain't helpin'.” With a thrust of his head and a menacing glare in the blunette's direction, he slowly turns his eyes back to concentrate on the road ahead. Without waiting for some kind of confirmation, he takes hold of the knob, slinging it forward and giving his foot a hard press down onto the gas. Slamming on the break and making a hard left, spinning the car around and tires out a bit before getting back on the road.

 

Revving the broken up beast, they jumped forward with a jolt, sending dirt and debris flying into the sky. They were starting to pick up speed, causing the black figures to come into view and become clearer. Murdoc had to shut his jaw and keep his cool, _those were goddamn zombies on bikes. Zombie bikers, are you fucking kidding me?_ He saw how they carried bats, chains, and even nine irons. With that sort of weaponry, he knew they meant business and weren't gonna let them go easily. Suddenly he wished for his cyborg to be here with that blimey shotgun. He grips the wheel again and furrows his brow trying to come up with a plan because there's only so much you can do when using a car as a weapon.

 

2D struggles to stay in his seat comfortably and get his seat belt on for once in his life because this ride wasn't turning out very well. Zombies are great and all but not so much when they're wielding bats and coming after you on motorcycles. He had agreed with Noodle about vising some old video sites but why couldn't they have just gone to 19-2000's highway? Or even just a nice ride down the road to the record shop? Even a giant moose with rocket nostrils sounds a whole lot better than this. They didn't have any weapons and getting out of this mess with forty or so undead bikers chasing them just didn't sound doable.

 

They slowed to a halt in front the zombies when Murdoc noticed they were idling, as if waiting for something. He felt a bit apprehensive just sitting there, almost like a duck about to be roasted. With the sound of the engines revving all around and all the stirred up dust, it really started to look like a battlefield. Both sides were ready and waiting for the other to make their move. His eyes glanced over to the rear view mirror and had to whip his head back to make sure he wasn't seeing a mirage. _Those damned zombies were just waiting for the rest of their crew to turn around and trap us in!_ _Fuck!_ He threw the care in reverse and tried to find a way out of this colossal mess. Giving the Camaro a spin, suddenly the zombies were on them like flies. A couple bikers hit the side of the car while others gave guttural laughs and drove around to the front and back of the car.

 

“We're doomed! they're garn 'ter kill us and eat us, maybe not in that order, but they're garn ter 'ave our brains for supper. Oh wot do we do now Mudz? I'm too young 'ter die 'ere-”, 2D continued wailing on and on about the zombies and their meal preference. Murdoc tried to remain calm, even with the crying buffoon in the front seat., he really did but something in him was starting to snap and there was so many limbs he could _snap_ from that dullard's body. This was it, this was the end of the Gorillaz band, with no way out of this, there wasn't any sure sign they'd make it out alive.

 

That was, until a thundering roar came from the distance, carrying itself throughout the canyon they were all currently facing off in. The air and the zombies all sat still, looking around for the source of the noise. As if from some kind of portal to Hell, an onyx colored bike came flying through the air from within the clouds of dust. It was like a demon glistening in the patches of sunlight that flooded through the curtain of stagnant air. With wheels spinning in slow motion towards the zombies who sat in front of the car which sat the disgruntled Gorillaz members. Their slack jaws showed their surprise and bewilderment as the mysterious new biker dug their front wheel into the zombies cracked skull.

 

Landing with a thud on top of the Camaro, the rider turns to stare at it's driver. Behind the black glass of the helmet, the rider simply looks down at Murdoc and gives him a nod before flying off as an attempt to distract the zombies. The now sprayed brain smoothie all over the windshield and other bikers seemed to wake them from their trance as all Hell broke loose. The zombies gave chase and this gave Murdoc enough time to snap out of his stupor and follow the bikers and their savior.

 

There wasn't much else Murdoc could do besides ram the already bent up Stylo into some of the bikers and hope it was enough to keep them down. With all the blood and brains flying about, it looked as if they really were in a horror flick. _Surely that dullard is having the time of his life right now, if he can managed to clean the piss he's probably gotten all over the seats._ Glancing over to the passenger, he sees the brainless sap cowering slightly less than before to witness the carnage going on. It really had become Death Valley and the smell, fucking shit does the unbearable heat do ungodly things to already rotting carcasses.

 

Needless to say, both of the band members in the car weren't too happy with the current situation but with a Hell bent maniac wielding a bike as weapon, at least the weren't going to be eaten. They both watched as the clad black rider popped wheelies to run the wheel across several faces of zombies. He just couldn't wipe the look of surprise off his face, having already seen some serious shit in his life, this was definitely not something he's every witnessed. Turning to faceache, “Heh, bet your pisses your pretty little britches right now ain't ya faceache? This is what a _real_ zombie flick is like!”, then as he begins again, 2D's scream cuts him off. Whipping his head back to the road, he narrowly misses the onyx biker who saved them. The cars starts to spin out of control for a second before he slams the break and coughs at the spit and dust that's caught in his throat. “If and _if_ we get out of this alive, I'm giving you such a bloody beating for that you shit head!”

 

2D shudders as Murdoc growls and bickers at him for saving him like that. Of course it would be all his fault for him not paying attention to the road just so he can mock him. It was one time he pissed himself, just once! Can't a man ever get a break? He sits up a bit straighter and tries to block out the curses coming from the driver's side. He glances around to see where that biker is and what's become of the hoard of zombies. He strains his white eyes and struggles to see through the mess that's painted the canyon. Eventually the wind dies down and he can just make out a lone survivor in the bloodbath that litters the road. Standing with a bat in hand is the one who saved them, covered in brains and dirt.

 

They both involuntarily tremble when the rider turns their helmet towards them and begins to slowly walk their way. Murdoc starts to shift his eyes around, looking for anything else that might come jumping out at them. Finding the approaching person to be the only living thing, he stomps on the gas and they just barely jump out the way, staring into 2D's flickering eyes as they pass. The blunette leans out the window and stares, almost as if in apology for his friend's behavior. With the speed their gaining, the body becomes a silhouette which eventually becomes nothing more than a speck in the distance.

 

Looking down and wringing his hands a bit before turning to Murdoc, 2D tries to reason with him.“Oi, why did yer leave them back there like that, eh? They saved us lives, and it 'ave a looked like their bike got trashed, right, we should 'ave given them a ride!” He honestly didn't understand why Mudz would just up and leave someone who helped them out like that. It wasn't right and they out to at least five them a ride to the next town. Surely someone who saved their lives couldn't be all that bad, right?

 

“Look Stu, you're young and naïve, I get it but there's no way someone like that is going to be on anyone's side. So do what I say and shut your trap.” With yet another sneer, Murdoc turns back to the road and grimaces. Sure the dullard had a point but there's no way he's about to let that punk know he's right. He pressed his foot farther and farther down, picking up speed and flying off to their next destination. Stupid twit just wouldn't shut up about it and all he wanted to do was get as far from that massacre as possible.There's no way this moron was getting him to turn his car around and pick up some kind of monster like that.

 

* * *

 

The sun was just falling behind the hillside causing the vivid reds and oranges to fill the skyline. Cold air began to set in the shaded area where the onyx rider now sat. Slowly removing the blood caked helmet to have a better view and be able to breathe a bit better in the dry heat of the desert. Reaching in the front pocket of the ruined leather jacket, a pack of cigarettes is pulled out a long with a lighter. Bringing a stick to her lips, she lights it up and stares out into the distance where the moon starts to rise up. She gives a small grin with her thin, strawberry painted lips as she sees the dirt and the dust and the waste kick up. Seems like her luck was turning around and the boys in the Camaro were going to give her a ride after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything from the Gorillaz or any of their characters nor do I make any profit from this. It is purely a fan made fictional story. I only own my OCs.


	2. The Passenger

* * *

Blackmail. Extortion. A bloody shake down is what that was. Tosspot thinks he's so cute with throwing that right in my face. Said he'd leave the bloody band if we didn't turn us around and pick up that freak back there. The nerve of that little scoundrel. Not that he was serious about it or had the actual balls to pull something like that. This definitely deserves a good old style beating or perhaps getting “accidentally” locked in the cupboard for a couple weeks when they get back home.

 

Honestly it might not have been too bad if that _thing_ in the backseat didn't have a face like that. Surely someone's mother didn't love them. Sweet Satan it looked like someone ran a burnt piece of rubber until a sewing machi-

 

Hearing a snort, Murdoc's face straightened out and he stared forward really hoping telepathy wasn't a thing. He glanced in the rear view mirror to find their guest staring down at the floor in the back. Judge all she wants, cleaning is what maids are for. Besides, she best not find something funny considering the Hell on Earth they just went through. What was she expecting? A magical carriage filled to the brim with snacks and drinks? He gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter at the thought of having to owe his life to some pompous slag like that.

 

If there was any one thing the lone, onyx biker had to say about this trashed up Camaro, it would be filthy. Absolutely trashed and full of shit. There wasn't an inch you could move without stepping on glass or cigarette butts. Sure she was no Maid Marian of cleaning but this was just downright disrespectful to vehicular technology.

 

Bullet holes littered the frame, only the windshield remained, and who knows what's happened to everything under the hood. None of this made it out her mouth however, because being ungrateful to the blokes who saved her ass from utter demise by baking in the desert heat probably already know about the car's condition. Not to mention that war zone this hunk of metal was just put through.

 

 _Not like I expected a four course meal and some princess treatment. I suppose anything is better than trying to get my bike back up and running._ Giving a glance to the now propped up trunk where her mangled Honda Shadow sat, barely held down by just a few scraps of rope. Supposed she'd have a Hell of a time salvaging that now. With a scowl now set on her face, she figured it'd be cheaper to just get another ride.

 

“So...uh, you live 'round here yea?”

 

Lifting her head up a bit to see that the green bloke had broken the silence in a crude attempt to make some small talk. She gave him a cheeky half grin, lifting only the right side of her face, which looked more like a baboon snarling at something dangerous. “Actually I'm from France. Just out here for a bit of sightseeing. You don't exactly sound like you live here either.”

 

“No, no. There's no way we live 'ere, just sort of traveling on the open road. Soul searching an' all that _fun stuff_.” Murdoc gave her an equally maniacal looking grin as he drawled about their so called trip. No chance he's going to go on and on and blurt out their dirty little secrets.

 

“Yeah, right, like Mudz says, right, we're doin' a bit of research for our band. We're in the Gorillaz yer know! I mostly sing but I do a bit 'round the back side of fings.” 2D had decided to chime in.

 

That little slip up made Murdoc turn and snarl, getting real close to that nob's face. Of course he had to go and ruin it by opening his big, stupid mouth. What was he going to tell her next? Their bank account numbers? Their home address? He seriously couldn't believe he put up with this half the time and further considered making a cyborg replacement. That thing would probably be more well behaved than this moron.

 

Snapping her fingers with pursed look.“Oh riiight, the Gorillaz. 'Course everyone's heard of them. Saw your special on MTV Cribs ya'know. Kong Studios was brilliant. Especially loved the bit with, erm, what was it? The _love shack on wheels_?” Giving a bit of a snort followed by chuckles at the thought.

 

“Mudz sure did luv 'is winnebago. Did yer spot the part wiv me in it? Did I 'ave a look good on camera?” 2D started bouncing excitedly in his seat.

 

 _He's just like a big little kid, that's adorable. Never thought a musician of his caliber would end up like that_ . She watched as the blunette face lit up and his legs waving about in anticipation. “I'd say so, yea. Shame we didn't get to see 'round your room or anything eh?” Grinning at his sudden sheepishness and the silence that followed as he turned back around to face the dashboard to start twiddling his fingers. _Yeah, he's a cute one._

 

“So now that I know who you two are, I think a proper introduction is in order.” She grabbed the front seats, pulling herself in between them. “My names Mabelle. Feel free to call me Mabe, Mabes, or whatever else your pretty little hearts desire.”

 

Murdoc gave her a toothy grin. “Nice to er, meet you luv.”

 

Still shy from the flirting from their guest, 2D simply waved back and bit his lip. “Right. Nice ter know yor name now.”

 

A loud thudding stopped them all in place and three heads stared at the hood of the car. A lone zombie arm was sticking up from the grill of the Camaro, banging about on the hood as if to say _let me the fuck go so I can strangle you_. The disgust was apparent on their faces while Murdoc pulled the car over. He stepped out and grabbed a stick from the side of the road and gave the arm a few pokes. It waved around angrily and even busted a headlight. Cursing, he took an even larger stick, one that was close to being as long as his body and slammed it down a few times. The arm twitched a bit and eventually settled down.

 

He sighed, running his hand over his face before sitting back into the driver's seat. “Now that a bit of funny business is over. Where exactly are you going because we've got a lot of work to do and can't be chauffeuring you 'round all day.” He turned to face Mabelle who was sporting a strange amused half smile and glittering gold eyes.

 

“Well nice of you to ask, because I believe you owe me a bit of a favor yea?” His pissed off look said he wouldn't want to honor it which was fine with her because she didn't feel he had a choice. “All I'm gonna request is one plane ticket back to England. That's it, swear on my life.” She held her hands up as if to mock surrender.

 

“ _Fine._ One bloody ticket and that's it. Not taking you back with us and don't even think of any funny business right?” Glaring her way and giving the steering wheel a hard grip. _Still don't trust this wench, she could be working for_ _ **him**_ _or who knows what else._

 

“Aw, but Mudz, it were nice ter meet some one I could actually speak to. At least give us a way ter keep in contact, we could meet up or sumfink like that.”

 

Murdoc rolled his eyes at the way the blunette was acting like such a love sick puppy. Fawning over a woman is just going to make her act bat shit crazy. You have to lead them on and make a game out of it. Either that or hitting it and quitting it. That's his motto and he's definitely sticking to it.

 

Her giggles said otherwise as Mabelle was handed a pen and paper after answering “Sure thing Stu.” She began to scribble down her number along with a couple hearts and “The Passenger” instead of her name. “Don't forget to call okay? Maybe we can jam sometime. I dabble on the guitar and ukulele but mostly I sing in my free time.” Handing back the scrap of paper, she gave him a wink.

 

2D's surprise showed on his face. “Really? Yer play, that's cool! We should definitely play togeffer some time then. It'd be nice ter do a collaboration.”

 

“That sounds nice then, it's a date!” Giving him a wink to only watch him stutter a bit and get even more nervous. It was always fun to tease shy, cute people.

 

* * *

 

They talked for several more hours as the streaks of the world flew by. The wind picked up here and there giving the car a bit of turbulence. The road started to even out a bit as they got closer to civilization. Without a working radio, it felt more like they were going on a road trip instead of having just dealt with that horror show and zombies galore. The sun began to dip into the mountains and darkness was quick to fall afterwards. The darkness and the lulling hum of the engine put 2D to sleep. His soft snores were added to the mix and broke the awkwardness just a bit.

 

As the stars began to sparkle into existence, Mabelle found herself becoming increasingly more exhausted. For several weeks she hadn't really gotten a break. Not between her break up with her ex boyfriend Richie and having to leave the band they both played in. It had already been so long now since she thought of her bandmates. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by a stern question from the one driving the wreckage he called a car.

 

“So, what's your real motive for all this? Just who are you working for? Is it money you want or one of our _souls_?”

 

The accusation was strange enough but after fighting a hoard of zombies on motorcycles, Mabelle wasn't that surprised. “Neither. See I think you've got me all wrong. Probably pegging me as some sort of fan girl type who's gonna follow you chaps like a stray.” Scoffing as she leaned back behind 2D, able to somewhat face Murdoc. “I don't need anyone's charity but I'm low on cash as it is and without my ride, I can't get anywhere. So considering I saved your lives, all I'm asking is for a way back home. Easy peasy really.”

 

She was a bit offended he'd think that without really knowing her but that's probably exactly why. She'd heard the rumors that weird stuff followed these guys wherever they went. If zombies weren't enough to make them piss themselves, they'd had to have seen some shit. One can only imagine what kind of supernatural bullshit you'd have to deal with to be immune to the undead swinging bats and chains at you.

 

Feeling him continue to stare back at her, she gave a nonchalant shrug and turned over a bit hoping it was the end of that awkward conversation. Thankfully 2D wasn't awake and it might have been why he was waiting to ask her about it. The blue haired front man seemed too sweet and innocent for that kind of talk.

 

As if sitting in the remains of the back windows and what looks liked computer parts wasn't enough, the weight from her bike along with potholes caused Hell on her neck and back. The bumps and rough driving was really starting to make her ache. Feeling her eyes start to droop, she propped her neck up with her hands as they interlaced behind her. She wanted to fight sleep and avoid the crick in her neck should was sure to get after their joy ride was over. Even so, exhaustion took hold of her and as her eyes closed, she could only make out the wind and the sounds of different memories.

 

* * *

 

_The wind was cold but felt rather nice against her skin while the sun punished her pale skin. She had left the house without the helmet she bought in preparation for today. The weather looked good and the news said it was supposed to be mostly clear today. A rare day for Good Easter where it usually rained and stayed overcast._

 

_Very rare in fact, for today was a very special occasion for Mabelle._

 

_Having gone and spent her hard earned cash on a lovely motorcycle, her very first vehicle ever. The shop had a nice sale on the ever lovely Honda Shadow, a piece she'd been admiring for so long now. Half of her bedroom had pictures of different models and colors plastered all over the walls. She had already heard her father's doubts but it couldn't change her mind on this. To feel the freedom, to fly in it and have the wind on her skin. That feeling was unlike any other and nothing would replace it._

 

_Of course, being disfigured on one side of you body along with ear damage didn't help with trying to balance on a bike. At most, it could stand on it's own, with it's point of gravity but one had to guide the bike, to maneuver it. She fell, and then she fell often. While some things just seemed to come naturally to her, this was not one of them. She was the perfect passenger when riding with someone else but this was completely new territory._

 

_Eventually she found herself on highways, straightaways, and even buying tickets to ride out on tracks. She claimed every road as her own and made the bike a part of herself. Hitting a ridge, she felt herself begin to fly, to truly be free and as she flew over a cliff, the bike disappeared and the air enveloped her._

 

* * *

 

Maybe it had been the wind coursing over her face and swirling past her ears but it had caused something to come bubbling up from her past. Somewhere deep in the bowels of her hidden memories, a place she tried to keep far away from the tomorrow that always comes.

 

When she felt the car come to a jerky stop, she cracked an eye open and was blinded by the rising sun. Looking out as her eyes adjusted, she could tell it was just after daybreak and the skies was perfectly clear. The heat was sure to follow soon and being stuck in a car with no air conditioning was going to be a pain.

 

Apparently they had stopped at a gas station on what looked to be the outskirts of Las Vegas. It was so strange to see it during the day, the once lit up jewel of the desert blended in with everything around it. Seemingly to be just another city in the wastes and not a hot spot for money, sex, and tourism.

 

“Finally up are yer? We'll be at the airport soon, Mudz just wanted ter put fill up the car before droppin' yer off. Said we'll be stayin' 'ere for a bit, right, uh, sumfink about more research?”

 

Surely “Mudz” must have not told his friend the entire truth because even he seemed to be confused as to why they were staying put. Surely the man has his reasons, probably has to do with the zombies. Although one would think they'd want to get the Hell out why they could in case those undead bastards show back up.

 

“Did yer 'ave a nice nap?”

  
Looking up to see a slight etch of concern furrowed between those black eyes, she gave a nod and stretched out to relieve the ache in her back. “Just a bit stiff from being cramped up in a car all night. Not used to riding in one of these, been on the back of a bike for a couple years now.” Rubbing out a knot in her shoulder and sighing. “Guess the plane ride is going to be just as bad.”

 

2D gave her a worried look but nodded anyway as if to agree with her. Flying on plenty of planes for tours meant the same thing to him. Back aches and bad food were the usual, plane food just never sat well with his stomach. You can't even smoke on the plane and that was bad enough.

 

She sat up and let her arms dangle between her legs. “So, after limboing around here, you heading back home or you guys touring?”

 

“Just 'ome, I fink. Haven't been too lucky wiv money or music for a bit. Mudz is sure ter come up wiv sumfink, eventually.” 2D still looked confused and in all honesty, was a bit worried that Murdoc wasn't really trying to get inspiration for a new album.

 

Speaking of the devil in disguise, his unholiness was walking back from grabbing snacks and drinks from inside. He hadn't let the dullard go in with him as to keep an eye on their guest and so he wouldn't try and get a million dollars worth of crap. He saw them talking and only figured that idiot couldn't keep his mouth shut and was blabbering on about what they'll be doing.

 

Whatever damage this girl had done was going to stick around like a sore for a while. He was sure that 2D wasn't going to give up wanting to see her again. She wasn't a groupie or a mindless slag but she seemed like she had some sort of substance or worth, at least she made it sound like she knew a thing or two about music. That little fact just might make finding her worth his while. If anything, he could snag her out from 2D's grasp like he did that dirty little bird named Paula. _Yea, toilet number three, that a fun ride while it lasted._

 

He strutted back over to car and finished up filling it with gas. Letting himself back in the car and getting settled, he sped off trying to ignore the babbling of his passengers.

 

* * *

 

Well here they were, the crossroads, the final frontier, _the airport._ After this Mabelle wasn't quite sure how long it would be before she saw them again. 2D had promised to call but with how Murdoc was acting, she wasn't sold that it would be anytime soon.

 

“So you're just leaving this hunk of junk with us, eh?” The raspy grunted question from Murdoc kind of surprised her. What did so even more was that she had almost forgot about her beaten up bike. All the times she spent riding it and now it was nothing more than a heap of trash. The one in her dream seemed like a distant memory now.

 

“Sorry, kind of forgot I convinced you to bring it along.” She scratched her nose a bit, “Can't very well bring it on the plane, so would you mind just dumping it off somewhere? Maybe a junk shop will give you some cash for it.” Wagging her eyebrows with shit eating grin suddenly across her face. ”Now I believe you owe me something.”

 

With a couple mutters and possibly insults, Murdoc dug in his pockets and pulled out a handful of bills and shoved it in her hand which had been outstretched in his direction. He watched as she counted them, paying no mind to the two band members while they watched a bit awkwardly. 2D looked in Mudz's direction and noticed just how agitated he seemed, guess he should probably stay quiet on the rest of the trip.

 

“Alright lads, this is it for a spell ain't it? Hopefully I'll be seeing _you_ sooner than later,” giving the blunette a boop on his nose and a small grin. With wave of a peace sign to the Satanist, she begins to shuffle backwards until she turns and goes to stand in the line for tickets.

 

2D gives her a shy little wave with his fingers and was biting down on his bottom lip. All Murdoc does is cross his arms, lean against his car, and stare at her retreating back with an unreadable expression on his face.

 

Sappy, drawn out goodbyes were never her thing and she doubted that would ever change. Well, less like a goodbye and more like a promise to future days spent together, she hoped. Tapping her foot in time with a song she couldn't quite remember the name of, she wondered if she should visit her dad when she got back. He was still resting in Good Easter after all, the place where her dreams all came true.


	3. In The Death Car

* * *

 

The sunlight began to hide behind clouds as the weather turned into a flurry of wet and cold. The last remaining warm rays disappeared and became replaced by the freezing temperature of the cabin. She would have worn her favorite leather jacket for comfort and warmth if it hadn't been destroyed by the revolting blood of zombies. The cashmere sweater she donned on earlier was helping but didn't keep the cold out completely. She had used up the last of Murdoc's money buying it because she just knew it was going to be a frozen Hell when she arrived in Stansted. Every time she went to that airport, it was always raining. At least the terminal kept out most of the rain and she could easily get to a taxi as soon as this thing landed.

 

This flight was so far so good in Mabelle's opinion. With the occasional rumble due to high winds and the rain splattering itself upon the windows. The giant iron bird had soared easily through the turbulence. It was just like any other plane ride – long, tedious, and a total _bore_. This was a good thing she supposed, seeing as anything too exciting in a plane could be dangerous.

 

Leaning her head against the window, she again wondered if 2D would actually call her up soon. Although he did promise, the life of a musician – especially a famous one – seemed like it would be jam packed with tours, practice, and flying from place to place.

 

The way they had been acting kind of said otherwise. It was as if they were stuck in a rut and haven't really gotten any material to work on. Just a string of bad luck most likely. Her old band had run into that plenty of times.

 

_Well, when they decide to cross the ocean, they'll be a bit closer. I've got that going for me, I guess._

 

It was a small comfort but she had that and she wasn't about to let the tiniest bit of hope go. She honestly had fun in the short amount of time they hung out together. Their life seemed like it was full of excitement and adventure. Sure zombies weren't exactly what she had in mind, but it was a Hell of a lot better than just sitting around doing nothing until you croaked.

 

“Huh, those zombies _were_ green after all...Why was Murdoc also – ?” She could not help but break out into a bit of a sweat. His skin tone had not exactly been what one would call normal. Comparing him to those zombies seemed silly considering he had been running from them. _But still_.

 

It would be something she put on the back burner for a while because she were jerked out her thoughts when the plane started to descend. The pilot gave a couple of announcements, the usual weather, low temperatures, and long wait times at the airport. Looks like Mabelle was not going to get out as easily as she once thought. This was honestly fine with her because she had a couple calls to make. First order of business was to get a new ride and her bank had frozen her account after using it a couple times overseas which annoyed her. A quick trip there and she'd feel a bit better.

 

The place raced down the roadway as the feeling bothered her empty stomach. The landing was always the worst to her. Taking off was actually no problem at all, usually she had time to prepare but this flight had kind of been a spur of the moment decision. After all, she had nothing in her pockets and the favor she asked from Murdoc was more than enough. She didn't want to try and convince him to buy her food too. So for now, she just struggled to keep the bile down and covered her eyes with her hands to try and stop the dizziness before it set in. The plane hit a couple bumps on the slow crawl over to the terminal. The people started to really wake up and chatter about in the cabin. Most of them were probably looking forward to the hustle and bustle of busy life.

 

The old lady next to her cleared her throat a couple times a bit too loudly. She sounded like she had been trying to hack up a hairball almost the entire flight. This has caused Mabelle to get a bit of a headache but she didn't want to be rude, so she kept her mouth shut. She did slip out a small irritated groan when the old lady took out her phone which had just rung obnoxiously loud. The crone began talking a mile a minute at the receiver. With a sneer, the old woman looked away from her and continued her barrage of word vomit.

 

_Little Timmy this, little Timmy that, something about a little kid's junk and being “cute”. Jesus. Is this what old people do with their free time? It sounded disgusting. Who would want to tell their friends and family about their kid's privates?_

 

The pilot turned off the seat belt light and let them know they could exit the plane shortly. This was, apparently, a sign that every single one of them should get up and start getting their bags and line up. This caused babies to start crying, pushing, and the entire cabin to fill with loud noises. Her dad always tried to teach her that forcing your way around and running blindly from point A to B would not really get you anywhere faster. She may be a bit of a spitfire but she at least tried to keep that in mind and liked to take her sweet time going wherever she went.

 

Motorcycles were the one exception to that rule. They were open and made her feel connected to the wind. She felt _free._ She remembered the first time she sped across the roads, heading North to the sea. It was after she found out her father, Reynard, had passed on into the afterlife.

 

* * *

 

_Feeling the wind on her face through her open helmet makes her heart quiver and eases her burdens even if it was just a bit. Riding her bike was the best feeling in the world and while singing was her passion, it almost couldn't compare to the liberated emotion she felt. As the world tangled her hair and the sun blinded her eye, she realized where she'd like the live the rest of her days, somewhere by the waterside._

 

_She had watched the sun slowly dip behind the clouds and set, causing the sky to become painted oranges and reds. Thinking back to her father and his beliefs, she was not quite sure she believed in God or spiritual energy like he did. Regardless, she had prayed for the first first in her life, letting the bike guide her on the straightaway as she slowly closed her eyes. She pleaded and begged that he was spending eternity in peace and had found her mom there too._

 

_Opening her eyes as if she was waking up, they fluttered open. Looking towards the glittering ocean as it swallowed the bright star. There was a dark feeling in her stomach as she gripped the handlebars tighter. Straightening out her hunched back, she back to lean back, further and further..._

 

* * *

 

Leaning her back against the stiff seat and watching as people started struggling to file out. They all looked like sardines, packed so tightly together and trying to rush out even if there was no room to move. She just didn't understand why some people refused to sit down and wait for a spell before getting up. They had minutes to spare while everything got settled. The door would not be opened for a bit so it just boggled her mind that everyone was in such a hurry all the time.

 

Mabelle waited until almost every single person had left before removing her seat belt and rising out of her chair. Lowering her hair so she would not hit it on the short ceiling above her seat, she spun at the end of the row. Making her way out at a leisurely pace, she waved and smiled at the flight crew before crossing her arms together to keep in the warmth. It was already showing signs of heavy rain and the temperature was even colder than in the air conditioned airliner. This was not going to be good weather to ride a bike around without a jacket.

 

_Change of plans I suppose. First the storage unit to see if I kept dad's jacket and THEN the bank._

 

Hoping it left her with enough time, this new plan would have to do. If she ended up getting caught with money and a ride, she'd just have to sit in a bar all night. This didn't seem like the worst plan per say but it was definitely better than sitting on the streets all night. Even worse, she could try and sleep in a chair at the airport and have a partially broken neck by tomorrow morning. That brought a chuckle to her half mangled lips.

 

The sea of people all ignoring each other but still quite packed kept her from getting outside for another half hour. This gave her time to think about her plan a bit more and try to figure out a way to get there even faster. Try as she might, there was not really much she could do unless the cab driver was going to be like a bat out of Hell. So long as it she did not step in the taxi and see a zombie there right? _Hah, that would be something_. Making her way through the last leg of people, she shimmied past them and opened the door to the sweet freedom of fresh air.

 

Just about the only thing that bothered her about taking her time mixed with crowds was the stuffy air. Even the nipping cold air of early March was lovelier than being in hot, damp crowd breath. Shuddering a bit, Mabelle stepped forward to avoid any people coming out the doors behind her. She ran up to the edge of the walkway and saw people filling into cabs and even being dropped off. None of the taxis stopped as she tried to raise her hand which began to grate on her nerves.

 

She shot out her arms and screamed, “OIIII – ” as a cab suddenly swerved onto the sidewalk and stopped next to her. The car looked a bit like it had been through a war rather than maintained. The once bored look turned into a grimace as the window rolled down and a pasty looking fellow with dark shades grinned at her.

 

“Hey there, need a lift?” the cab driver inquired. His shades covering only what she thought might be a sleazy smirk considering those eyebrows he was wagging.

 

Gulping back the nervousness in her throat. “S-sure thing boss. I don't have anything bags so the only cargo is me. Are you alright though? Haven't been drinking or something...?”

 

Starting with a hearty laugh then suddenly choking on some spit the driver shook until he composed himself. “Not at all, this darn thing just needs a tune up, something about the axis or wheels or somethin'.”

 

_He's probably just off his goddamn rocker. But he did make it here and his car looks like it's seen some wear and tear, so I might as well play along._

 

“Alright well let's not dick around, I'm heading to Good Easter, hopefully you know where that is!”  
  
  
With a slightly more sinister sounding laugh, the cab driver told her his GPS could lead them anywhere and it was certainly “no problem for him”. That dark and nauseous feeling came bubbling back up into her stomach as she climbed into the back of the vehicle.

 

With what sounded like the jamming of some gears, he tossed the car straight into second and took off. Shifting faster than any sane man would have in such a dinky car. Mabelle found herself having to hold onto two of the three seat belts just to keep from slamming into the sides. Her already sore back felt like it was going to break at any moment. This man's insane driving and swerving between cars a bit too close to her liking was looking like it would get them both killed.

 

She gulped down the nervous feeling to speak up. “Look boss, I want to get there just a quickly as you do but your driving- well it's uh, going to get us both killed.”

 

The unexpected cackle from him sent chills up her spine. She half expected him to just outright ignore her but he actually slowed down. Turning to the side, just enough so she could she his crooked teeth. “Well, sorry 'bout that lady. By the way, mind if I take a detour? Less money for yah to cough up.”

 

Without waiting for a reply, he turned to cab to the right and managed to get it up on two wheels. Mabelle might have been holding on earlier but this was just downright insane. She slammed into the door on the driver's side and cursed. When the car fell back on all four wheels, she also fell, only forwards with her face into the musty cushion of the back seat. Her back definitely felt done for now. Just like an elderly woman, she craned forward and held onto her lower back. _Aw shit, that is going to be Hell in the morning._

 

“Damn man, can you seriously drive any less like a maniac?!” She screamed after cracking her back and slumping back.

 

“Heh. Maybe I can. Right after I send you straight to Hell...”

 

_What in the goddamn – **what** did he just say?_

 

Her thoughts were cut short as his head turned around. Only his head – with his hands on the wheel. The dark glasses he wore feel as he cocked his head to the side and grinned like a demon. This would have evoked a scream from Mabelle, had she not been in complete shock that she was right.

 

He suddenly jumped backwards as the car gave a lurch when his foot was pressed to the wheel. She grabbed his shoulders and tried to keep his rotting face from hers. His breath was absolutely _horrid_ , it was like a carcass that rolled around in a plethora of shits, then ate a buffet of other carcasses and threw up on itself. _How gross_.

 

She was jerked sideways as his foot slipped and the car began to grind against a railing. He turned to fix his grip and she took the opportunity to elbow him in the side of the face and knock out a couple teeth.

 

“Ugh, take that you son of a bitch! And THIS” She jammed a couple of fingers into his spongy eye socket which caused the cab driver to scream and grasped his face. “Yeah, bitch!”

 

“You wench! I'll make you pay for this...” He went to grab her with his free hand but she grabbed his stumpy fingers first. He watched as her frown turned into a maniacal grin. “No, w-wait, please don't – ARRGGHH!”

 

His pleas ended with a scream of pain when Mabelle broke three of them by breaking them in an upward motion. Now he was holding his face and his broken fingers close to his chest. With him distracted, she reached up and snarled, taking his head into her hands and snapping it to the side. His jaw hung open as his eyes rolled back. When she let his head go, it dropped backwards along with his body, giving her a clear view of the road.  
  
  
“Oh _shit_ – ”

 

The car swerved at the sudden weight of the zombie falling into the steering wheel. They were heading right for a telephone pole and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Holding her hand under her arms, she readied herself for the impact and stuffed herself behind the driver's seat. The crash happened so quickly, she barely had time to register it.

 

Thankfully only the front of the car had been wrapped around the wooden pole. Being safely tucked into the backseat, she managed to escape most of the damage. She looked around and the dust had mostly settled. The zombie was definitely not getting out of this one if he could come back to life from a broken neck and now being torn in half. Maggots and slime covered the now exposed rib cage of her ex cab driver. His green and black horrid blood painted the interior of the car and even the side of her face. _Disgusting._ She thought to herself. _Definitely going to need a shower after this, wonder how much longer it is until Good Easter?_

 

Stepping out from the wreckage, she now felt the extent of the damage that little stunt he had pulled did to her. With a back that felt like cracked glass and a deep ache all over, the rest of the way would be a struggle. Thankfully after a glance around, she realized he had actually driven her quite close to her old home. Only about a half an hour walk from here and there was the church she'd stayed at several times after a bad argument with her dad. Relief washed over her and with a deep breath, she starting walking along the side of the road.

 

Since it was already getting later than she'd like, she tried picking up the pace. Her plans had definitely changed now and there was no way she would be getting everything done this evening.

 

The walk to the cemetery where her father was laid to rest felt more akin to walking to her own coffin. Her back felt miserable and her already bad knee felt even worse after getting into a wreck. Still, Mabelle walked on with irritated determination. Looking up to the sun which now sat right around what she guessed was the late afternoon, she wished her phone had life left in it. It had died early through the flight, no thanks to her playing solitaire for a good hour. Calling a cab or even making sure the pastor at the church was still there this late in the day.

 

Stones, gravel, and glass crunched under her thick boots as her feet became heavier with each step. Her mood began to sour as she realized that more zombies would probably show up. Groaning heavily before tossing her head back, she thanked whatever Gods for their generous offer of the undead – sarcastically of course. She just couldn't believe her luck, she finally met one of her favorite bands ever and then this nasty business came about. Bah humbug summed it up all too well.

 

Coming around a bend, she trekked on with hope that she would come across that church she remembered being there. Low and behold, there it was in all it's glory. Saint Andrews. That name never sounded so sweet on her tongue. Sure she didn't believe in the holy ghost and whatever else religious babble was about but the man who ran that place was a Saint. His name might not have been Andrews but Pastor Danny was more than she could ever ask for. The man was a serious holy man and would never turn any lost soul away.

 

She had found herself there after a bad fight with her father over saying grace before supper. The short and gracious poem never sat well with her and she really didn't want to say it – ever. Reynard did have a way of guilting her over things and even going as far as bringing her mom into it. So after this particular argument, she had bolted out the house and ran as far as she could in the cold Spring rain.

 

Mabelle remembered that day well and smiled sadly at the memory. Drenched and frozen to the bone, she had opened the front door thinking no one was there. Instead, she had walked into a nave filled to the brim with lit candles and incense. It was like being in a dream where everything had a simplicity and yet somehow, grave.

 

Having heard the door open, she recalled Pastor Danny stepping out from near the confessional and the priceless look of shock upon his face. His brow had been scrunched in confusion before running to fetch her a dry towel. He had listened to all her fears and worries, something not many had done for her before. Even when she cursed and took the Lord's name in vain, he just sat, nodded, and gave her a smile.

 

Ever since that day, she made sure to visit him a couple times each week. He was sanctity in a world filled to the brim with darkness. Like the candles that spread out across the church, he glowed and provided the much needed light to the people who couldn't do it themselves.

 

Although her feelings weren't completely innocent. The man was young and attractive but he was incredibly religious and devoted to his faith. She doubted he would ever see her in that kind of light. A young, scarred up kid was probably the only thing that reached inside his mind. He wasn't married but he just was a completely kind and gentle man. Did he even see any woman in that sort of way?

 

Staring up at the plain steeple, she winced as the sun filtered through the trees surrounding it and as they hit her eyes. Stepping off the beaten path, she fell into a familiar groove as she traced the steps she used to always take. She was home.


	4. Real Wild Child (Wild One)

 

**Chapter contains explicit content  
**

* * *

 

Here in the darkness of the shadow cast from the church, she felt something gnawing at her stomach. Suddenly all the hormones and nerves cam bubbling up and she did not feel as if she could take another step. Mabelle being nervous only ever happened when Danny was involved. He had a way of sneaking into her mind during all her steamy alone time sessions while in the bath. Danny's warm face always forced it's way behind her eyes when she least expected it. She's just lucky her father had only half his hearing and never heard her whispering his name like a prayer during those times.

 

The worst part was, he was a friend of her fathers from school. They had met in France where they both grew up and she could only guess that he was one of the reasons her father decided to move to Good Easter. While it's true that her parents were young, the man was old enough to be her father even if his looks did not reflect his age.

 

Even still, his manners and demeanor always caused her to flush. The kind and gentle way he spoke and acted towards her was unlike any other interaction she had with people. Usually her brash and badass way of acting caused people to take her less seriously and even treat him like a teenager.

 

Which caused her to groan at the next thought.

 

He was indeed old enough to be her father but she was of age too. Being so nervous and worried about what other people saying should not really matter. _I am an adult, I can do as I please. No one ever complained about 14 year olds being married off back in the day._ Scoffing at the thought and the mixed emotions that always made her stop and pace in front the church before being able to calm down and enter the Holy place.

 

This was certainly going to bother her whether she sat out here or went in so she swallowed her pride and pushed against the heavy wooden door. It creaked with age far greater than her own, sliding harshly against the stone floor. The entrance looked the same as ever minus the new candles decorated with the Virgin Mary and multiple versions of Jesus. The contributions and candles left by members of the church stayed, long after the wax had been burned and the lonely wicks sat at the bottom of the glass jars.

 

Chuckling soft, she noticed the donations box she helped make for Danny was still there. It was pretty old now but the colorful flowers and terrible drawing of religious figures still sat there. Such a simple box made her feel so important and she had even refused her father's help on the project. That moment was probably the first time she could recall where she realized she liked the Pastor a bit more than what friendship called for.

 

So when Mabelle walked into the church, moving around the column that held the trinkets of the good people, she had to hold in a laugh. Danny was moving around, lighting candles and had not even noticed her walk in. That door was loud and creaked with every inch that it moved. The man really did not have any idea of going ons around him. She held her hips and braced herself on her right side while smirking deviously. She could really do some damage and give the man a heart attack the way he was so oblivious to his surroundings.

 

"But blessed are your eyes, because they see; and your ears, because they hear.” She loudly proclaimed with twinkling eyes.

 

She watched as his body jolted a bit and without turning around, he answered with a cheerful voice. “For truly I say to you that many prophets and righteous men desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it.” He set down the match he was holding and turned to face her. “Matthew 13:16-17 if I'm not mistaken, I'm surprised you knew that one Mabelle.”

 

With golden glittering eyes, she smiled back at him. “Well of course. Dad had me reading that darn book everyday before and after dinner. You wouldn't believe how incredibly religious you made him.” Laughing, she started to walk forward as he simply snickered at her accusation.

 

“Your father was a good man and I'm sure he saw many things hidden in the word of the Lord. Surely you know I did not make him do anything.”

 

“Come on Dan, you know I'm just kiddin' around.” She met his outstretched arms with her own and embraced him in a tight hug. The warmth suddenly giving her new energy in her tired bones. Looking up, she expected to see his carefree smile but instead saw worry in his weary eyes.

 

“Mabelle, are you alright? You look like something awful has happened.” Taking her chin in his hand, he turned it to each side and examined her battered face. Ignoring her hands trying to swat him away at the sudden, forced contact. “Really, you should take care of yourself better and stop hanging around such rough people.”

 

She scoffed and pulled back before retorting. “And be a monk like you? Hiding in church all day? I don't think so mister.”

 

Danny had been so used to her trying to bicker with him so he simply laughed and placed a hand on her shoulder before continuing to light the candles around the church. Small talk never came easy to Mabelle like it did Danny but he knew better than to try and force her to chat.

 

“Hey do you have a phone charger? Mine ate up all the battery during my flight.” She yanked it out of her pocket and showed him what kind of charger it needed. He took it from her hands with a smile and went into the backroom where he had all of his belongings. Luckily for her he seemed to have one and she would not be cut off from her friends for much longer.

 

Sometimes it was easy to forget that he not only worked here but lived here as well. The man had long since stayed in this church and given up most of what he owned. He claimed that a man of God had no use for such material things. The small room only held a bookshelf filled to the brim, a small bed fit for someone her size, and various religious trinkets he had kept.

 

He returned shortly with a wire and handed it along with her phone back to her. He pointed to the wall in the front of the church and let her know where to find the plug. After making sure her phone was ready to charge up and turning it on after a couple minutes of getting some life back, she stepped from behind the alter and went back to sit at the front pew. The walnut finish was still glossy but showed the signs of wear and tear from being the most used.

 

Every time she would visit the church, she noticed that most people sat in the front to hear their beloved pastor speak. Almost all the pews in the back went unused and ended up dusty before the week was out.

 

Funny how it always seemed different at the chapels she and her father went to in France. Now those were always filled sparingly, with most people scattered about as if they were trying to avoid each other like the plague. Her thoughts of a time long past were cut short when she realized Dan had begun talking to her again.

 

“I hope you have been well Mabelle, it has been such a long time since your last visit. I was beginning to worry about you. Hopefully you've been staying out of trouble, regardless of how you look now.”

 

“It's been alright, considering...er, _things._ So, how have you been? I know it's been a while since I last came around here but I was busy in the states, well, more like a little vacation to get my mind off things.”

 

“That sounds like it must have been fun Mabelle.”

 

With a pout, she stared at his slowly retreating back. That man always uses her full name like that. It just made her think of his age and hers even more. He treated her like such a _child_ and she did not like it one bit. Even though she has already brought up the subject multiple times, he would always just laugh at her and tell her he just liked her name. It was as he said, as she remembered it, “ _It was given to you by God and your father, a beautiful name for such a beautiful face_.” While it caused her to blush and stutter, he managed to get her to stop pestering him about it.

 

Such a small compliment when a very long way for someone like Mabelle who's face was not exactly the epitome of beauty and grace.

 

“Did you meet anyone? Is that why you went?”

 

The way he asked was strange, almost jealous or anxious in a way. This made her nerves act up again, giving her a weird feeling. With his back still turned, she could not see the look on his face and she really wondered what she would find if he would just turn around. So instead she just leaned back and held her head up with her hands. “Well, I guess you could say that. Met a couple of musicians actually. Turns out they're from here and one of em wants to jam. Been waiting for them to call me and set up a date.”

 

At the sound of the word “date” slipping from her mouth, she whipped her head to the side to stare at Danny when the box of matches he held suddenly fell out of his grip and clattered to the floor. Her mouth was hanging open at the surprising noise and sudden jerk she saw from his body. _Now that was weird, something has to be going on in that Holy skull of his._

 

“Y-you alright Dan?” Standing and nervously walking over to his body as he crouched down to pick up what he dropped. His hand was hovering over the box and his stiff form worried her. “Come on answer me, you okay?”

 

Throwing his head back and staring down the painted ceiling. Sighing heavily, with a weariness she never heard from him before. “Mabelle, I'm fine. Please, just wait out here and I will return.” Deciding to abandon the fallen matches, he stood and made his way to the backroom.

 

Suddenly filled with worry but choosing not to bother him further about how weird he was acting. She instead stepped back and made her way to the low arches that sat in front of where he distributed the pieces of bread and sips of wine for those who came to pray. She leaned against the post and laid her head down onto her arms while staring up at the statue of Christ that stood before her.

 

While she never believed in religious and spiritual things, the statues and artwork that came from such people always astounded her. Such beauty from times like the dark ages made her wonder what would have happened if religion never existed.

 

_White light_

_White light_  
White light  
Alcohol, alcohol, alcho-

 

Her ring tone echoed in the chapel and she cursed silently before moving to go retrieve it. Scrambling to get over to her phone quickly, her bad knee gave a jerk causing her to stumble over the raised floor that led to the altar. She fell with a grunt and huffed in annoyance. Reaching an arm out, she grabbed at her phone until she managed to grab the end and flipped it open before standing up to dust herself out. “This is Mabe, who's callin'?

 

“M-Mabe? Mabelle, is that you?” _Sounds more like ewe, 2D has the cutest accent._ Mabelle laughed and let him know he had the right gal. “Oh, er, I didn't expect yer ta' answer, I 'ave been callin' for a bit now and it kept goin' straight ter voice mail so I were a bit worried.”

 

“Mmm, yea my phone died but I managed to get it charged enough to turn it on. Wanted to make sure I had it on ju-u-ust in case you called. Lucky me right?” She rasped in a sing song voice before laughing. “So what's up my blue haired friend?”

 

“Well, I were just wonderin', if yer want to, well, if yer would like ter go get some lunch tomorrow and maybe jam a bit af'er.” 2D gulped nervously and twiddled his thumbs.

 

_Bet he's biting his lip right now, he kept doing that when he seemed to be thinking really hard._ “That sounds fine with me! Where do you want to meet up tomorrow? Got a couple things to take care of first thing in the morning but afterwards I should be free.”

 

Their giddy chatter continued and she learned of a little place called Farm Pizza over in Basilton where he likes to go to eat greasy pizza to get away from the paparazzi. With each word, he sounded more and more like he was gaining confidence and losing that stutter. It was nice to hear him talk instead of just mumbling words. She listened to him babble on about driving around the desert some before Murdoc had given up and told him they were going back home. Apparently they lived pretty close and 2D told her he'd like it if she came to jam at their make shift studio at their apartment.

 

While talked loudly with excitement, she hadn't noticed the shadow growing behind her until a hand reached out and grasped her phone. Before she could get another word out, the hand slammed her phone shut, cutting 2D's words short and then it was tossed aside where it spun across the floor. The body behind her pulled her close and the warm breath – of who she now realized was Danny – wafted over her neck.

 

“Mabelle, I'm glad you are home.”

 

The sudden contact had sapped any logic from her mind and all she could do was awkwardly stay frozen in place while he held her close. This kind of thing had never happened between the two and she was now convinced that her had been jealous earlier and was even more so now. The violence he inflicted on her phone was evidence of that. While he had never shown those kind of feelings towards her, he had always been there for her and put down whatever he was doing when she visited. He never gave her a sign or any kind of hint, so why now?

 

“I know it is wrong but I, I care for you dearly. I want you to stay with me, here in Good Easter. By my side, _Mabelle_.” The way he whispered her name was so sultry and hot, he spoke in such a manner it made Mabelle's legs wobbly and weak.

 

“Dan, I – we can't. You're so much ol – ” She tried.  
  
  
“Older than you? Do you not think I know this?” He hissed, pulling her closed, letting her feel him hard with need against her backside. “How long have we known each other? How is this wrong if we both truly care for one another? God might have sent you to me knowingly.”

 

She felt his soft kisses along her neck, the warm and soft lips leaving a trail that became cold with the breath that followed in their wake. His hands covered her stomach and he had her up against the altar rails. The marble of this holy place now holding up their sinful dance.

 

“Mabelle, I want you, if you will have me.” Groaning into her neck and continuing his soft barrage upwards to her ear. Nipping at it lightly then nuzzling his face into her hair. “It will not matter if we are not wed yet, in the eyes of God, we could very well be together already.”

 

She wanted to tell him this wasn't quite right and that they should stop but _holy hellfire_ this felt amazing. Somehow this lonely pastor knew exactly what he was doing and she found herself wondering if he had pleasured himself to her image just like she did all those times before. His touch gave her goosebumps all over and while she felt so hot, it made her shiver with pleasure.

 

Richie had never done anything as gentle and erotic as this. He had always been so rough and demanding, like a demon. Danny was more like a starving man given a chalice filled to the brim with milk and honey. Greedy, yes, but gentle enough with the goblet that he did not spill any of the precious liquid.

 

Reaching her hands back, she gripped his pants and held onto his legs before leaning back to open herself to him. He took this as an invitation to please her even further. While continuing to tease her neck and shoulders with his warm lips, his hand danced around her stomach. Lightly caressing the half marred skin and giving it the well deserved attention he felt it needed. He felt the muscles spasm and flutter at his touch. Sensing her want and her moans, he undid the button on her jeans and slid the zipper down slowly. She threw an arm back to grab at his hair and moaned for more, letting him know that she had enough of his teasing.

 

Slowly following the top of her panties, he fingers moved like a ghost across the delicate area. Mabelle groaned again and bucked her hips slightly as she felt his hand dip down further. He ran a finger down her womanhood, causing her to cry out. She was so wet for him, full of want and need, and he had just what she was looking for. Stroking it a few more times in a painfully slow motion, he chuckled as she yanked on his blonde locks. Seeing her so pent up and gaining such an appetite for him made his erection painfully stiff. He ground his hips into her backside once more.

 

The feeling of someone wanting to please her and having been alone for so long now had Mabelle's mind clouded with lust. “Oh, _Danny_!” She couldn't control herself or mouth anymore, hot breath slipping through her cracked lips. Everything he did just felt so amazing and she pressed her back into him even more, slowly grinding herself onto him just as he had done to her.

 

Slipping a finger inside of her and trying to control himself, he slowly moving in and out of her. Making sure to give her more pleasure than just the image of him she probably had conjured while playing with herself. For such a long time now, he knew of her feelings toward him. It was only when the threat of another man taking her away from him that made him snap. He truly cared for her and if this is what it took to get her to stay, he'd do _anything_.

 

So Danny grasped one of her breasts and leaned down to brush his lips over her ear. He cooed and teased her, whispered sweet nothings to her. Said things about her hair, before she had dyed it. The wild, fiery locks that looked like the burning sun. How she should not of dyed it black and how she would have been so beautiful to let that fire run free. To let her true self out and show that fire which burns within in, is ever present.

 

“Oh Mabelle, the fire within you, the fire that was your hair. Fire may have marred your skin but-”

 

A hand clasped over the rough hand that lay on her breast. A deep scowl appeared on Mabelle's face as she removed herself from the older man's grasp.

 

“I don't want to hear anything about it. You know how it makes me feel.” Straightening herself up and fixing her shirt, she begins to walk away. She was not about to sit here and listen to this rubbish. The mood was completely gone and he just had to mention those things.

 

“But I - wait - please!  


“What is it? What could you possibly have to say about it that I haven't heard from everyone else? Even dad used to go on and on about my hair! I like it like this, it's dark and nice. It fits ME.”

 

He watched as she put her hand over her heart and held tight to the fabric of her band tee. Knowing it would only provoke her, he kept on, without being able to shut his mouth.

 

“But it was you. It always made you look so natural, so beautiful and like your mother.”

 

“Don't you dare talk about her! I don't want to hear it Danny!”

 

With wild and angry eyes, Mabelle turned from him and made for the door. She listened to his pleas but never turned back. He could sit and wallow in the dark of that church for all she cared. Everyone always said the same things. Commented about her red hair and how unladylike she looked now. None of it was their business and their nosiness should just butt out.

 

Shoving her hands deep into her pockets, she stalked away from the cold exterior of the church and found herself walking to the graveyard. _Dad was always the one I would go to when I couldn't handle people. He may have made me mad sometimes, but he always had a shoulder for me to lean on._

 

Stepping over some of the other graves in the crowded space of the graveyard, she made a beeline for the spot where her father had been buried. A simple, stone tombstone lay there. It was crooked and worn, like it saw plenty of rain and wind. Mabelle had never been one to visit and clean up the area, nor had she seen anyone else make the effort to keep this place tidy.

 

“If only Pastor Danny cared about the graves as much as he did keeping the church afloat.”

 

“I would if I had the time Mabelle.”

 

She whipped around at the deep voice behind her. Danny had followed her to the grave, bringing along a bible. With it clutched in his hands, he stepped forward and said some words for her father. They both closed their eyes in prayer and ended with quiet “amens”.

 

“Do you think he's okay? Wherever he is?”

 

  
“Mm, you worry too much Mabelle. Your father was a kind and gentle soul, he is resting peacefully. I'm sure of it.”

 

He stares at her with gentle eyes, almost as if he is going to confess something to her. Instead she watches as he turns away, his back growing smaller and his footsteps becoming quiet. Just as he reaches the end of the graveyard, he turns his head back to look at her.

 

“My offer will always be there for you Mabelle. I know you keep denying me but, should you ever give in, my door will be open. You know where you can find me. Be safe out there.”

 

“Thank you Dan, I'll remember that.” She manages to whisper out.

 

Seeing him with a small grin and scrunched eyes, she wonders what would it have been like to have been born earlier. To have known him as a woman who did not lack her self control and could believe in the things he did. Would they have ended up together?

 

Mabelle watched him go and made a mental note to see him one last time before she left. She might not be back for a while and even though he was persistent, he still meant something to her. It might never happen between them now, he knows of her past but when he found out who she really was, there was no way he would stay with her.

 

Giving her father's grave one last glance, she looks up to the sky and closes her eyes to feel the cool drizzle fall down on her. Pulling her hood on, she leaves and sets off towards the inn.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Mabelle found herself exhausted after a restless night. Her dreams ended up nightmares, pictures of Pastor Danny being attacked by zombies. With her recent encounters with the rotting undead, she can only shiver and worry about Danny. Would he be a target since he was so close to her? What did those creeps even want with her? She had never danced with any devils or preformed any strange rituals.

 

Sighing, she gets dressed in her clothes from yesterday and sneers at the smell. _I really need to get this shit washed._

 

Leaving the quaint inn, she once again finds herself walking to the church. One last goodbye to Danny before she heads off to London in search of work. Surely there would be some crap band looking for another member. Worst case scenario she could fumble with a bass or play some guitar.

 

The church came into view, oddly seeming colder and even more menacing than it was yesterday. From here, she could see the warm glow of candles beyond the windows but there was a harsh wind blowing. Covering her arms up, she walked inside and hoped it was just an upset stomach and her gut feeling was wrong.

 

Seeing Danny stand in the middle of the church, surrounded by the candlesticks and his head hung low. He looked like he was in prayer but the way he stood was so stiff and unnatural.

 

“D-Danny? Are you alright?”

 

“Why, yes I am. I'm perfectly fine.”

 

His voice sounded strange, like nails on a chalkboard. _Maybe he's been drinking? I actually wouldn't be surprised._

 

She ended up very surprised when he turned to face her, an almost mechanical movement. One leg swung up in almost a cartoon manner, before plopping down to the ground. His head was still low and his face covered by his unkempt hair. Mabelle noticed he looked dirty and as if he did not shower since they last saw each other.

 

He took one step.

 

Then another.

 

The echo of his boots overshadowed all else and Mabelle felt a cold sweat break out upon her brow. He was walking so strangely and then he began to chuckle. A low, deep laughter that truly frightened her. With shaking hands, she grabbed a nearby pew and leaned against it, feeling the burns on her left side pulse painfully.

 

“M – a – b – elle. Oh, M – a – b – elle!”

 

The eerie way he kept calling her voice made her heart thump with fear. Every step he would take, she would take backwards. She felt like a rat trapped by a starving cat, backed into a corner and about to be eaten alive.

 

Then she screamed. He had looked up at her, a mangled face grinned up and met her terrified one. Half of it looked as if it had been eaten and something else had worn it like a mask. One eyeball rolled lazily in the socket and his lips, dear God, _his lips._ They had to have been run through a blender or shaved down with a razor, they looked like beaten flesh covered in maggots.

 

Mabelle held a hand to her mouth to keep the bile in. Dread rose in within her and she felt so very sick. Pastor Danny, her Danny had been killed and it was all her fault.

 

The demon wearing Danny's corpse came closer and reached his hands out to grab her. Screaming “No!”, she knocked over the closest candlestick and ran from the church. She heard the maddening laughter from within. A dreadful sound that reminded her of the nightmares from last night.

 

Collapsing in the church yard, she shook and turned to vomit in the grass beside her. After witnessing that, she would never be able to hold down any food ever again. It was haunting. Danny's gaunt and mangled face staring back at her.

 

With her eyes pouring tears and wide with fear, she watched as flames began to lick at the windows. It swallowed everything before her. The church took time to become consumed by the fire but once it was lit, it raged out of control and Mabelle was frozen in the spot. She watched as it burned on and on, her left side burned with it.

 

The flame burned on and on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if anything looks wonky, posting on two different sites with different formats is always difficult.
> 
> This was super late! T_T so sorry!


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